Twenty-Eight

 

He didn't deserve her thanks. He hadn't lied, but...he hadn't told her the truth about the Queen of Aros, either. Then again, no one here needed to know the truth about how he'd been banished from Aros. Least of all Rosa, whose ice-fair features were lovely enough to tempt any man. Including the Baron's son, he was sure.

A thought that shouldn't send a rush of anger through him, yet there it was. He'd experienced jealousy before, envying Abraham and Maja their happiness together, but that was nothing compared to the acid eating his insides now.

Even as he told himself he was here to complete a quest and earn a reputation, a tiny voice in the back of his mind added how wonderful it would be to win Rosa's heart along the way. To share her bed the way a man usually did with a woman, dishonour be damned.

Only he would have to leave her at the end of the winter, for he had no place here. And to break the heart of a witch who could probably kill him with a glance, or curse him for the rest of his days, did not seem like the wisest course of action.

The Baron's son was a better match for her, he reasoned. She could rule over the Great House instead of this tiny cottage, and have servants to do the work for her. And surely she had family here, for in a village so small, everyone must be related to some degree.

Unless the wolves had killed them all.

But why would a wolf do that – kill a whole family, yet leave the rest of the village untouched? Until now. It made no sense.

"What can you tell me about the wolves?" Chase asked, trying to sound casual.

"Well, there was only one until the day you decided to go after him," Rosa said.

One wolf? That's what the Baron's son had said. But for one wolf to kill so many people...

"How many men had it killed before the Baron sent for me?" he asked.

She stared at him, as though trying to decide if such a question merited a reply. Finally, she said. "He killed my parents and my sister, six years ago, and my grandmother a few weeks ago. There are tales of others he may have murdered in the past, but that was long ago. Too long for anyone to know for sure. Then there's you, and me, though he hasn't killed us yet."

"The wolf attacked you, and you got away? How?" The moment the question left his lips, he knew he'd been stupid. "Wait, I know – magic, right?"

He'd earned a smile from her as she nodded.

"Can you tell me more than that? If there is some way I can defeat it, then I must know more." He reached out and captured her hand. "Please, Mistress Rosa. You've told me tales about gods getting drunk. Now tell me the tale about the beautiful young woman escaping from the beast."

"That is another story entirely, and not the one you want, I think. But if you wish to know the true tale of the reckless witch who went out to kill the wolf by herself, you shall have it." Rosa took a deep breath.

He listened to her tale, which sounded disturbingly like his own plan when he'd headed out to that clearing. He'd seen the feathers, but dismissed the earlier kill as something the Baron's hunting party had placed, not Rosa. The more she spoke, the more his admiration grew. If the wolf hadn't manage to knock her out of her tree, she would have been victorious, he was certain of it.

"No wonder the wolf sought reinforcements before it fought you again," Chase said in wonderment.

Rosa blinked. "But that's just it. Wolves don't do that. They are either part of a pack, or they aren't. The only lone wolves who are allowed to join a pack are either fertile females or a male so strong he defeats their leader, and any other challenger the pack sends against him. Only a man – a leader of men – would go and recruit an army to defeat a foe they cannot defeat alone. In wolves, they would see that as weakness and slink away to find a more easily conquered food source. They would not return with greater forces. Wolves don't think like men...unless magic turned a man into a wolf, as my grandmother said."

"Is that possible?" He didn't want to believe it, but after all he'd seen Rosa do with her magic, he might have to.

"My grandmother told many tales of such things, long before my gifts revealed themselves, so that I might recognise my magic when it came. Neither of us expected my powers would have an affinity for air, and it took me longer to master than others might have because it seemed like such a trivial thing at first. Then I learned I could use it to listen, and lift things and...on the night I fled from the wolf, I truly learned to fly." Rosa spread her hands wide. "So, I suppose my answer is that yes, it is possible. Transforming people into beasts is a common method of punishment, when a man commits a crime against a witch."

She said it in such a matter-of-fact way that it shouldn't have sounded like a threat, or even a warning, but Chase shivered all the same.

In a soft patch of dirt beside the fire, the cat rolled onto its back, stretching as it dozed in the warmth.

"What was his crime?" Chase asked, pointing at the cat. He could easily imagine the beast as some fat, greedy baron, taking everything from his people and leaving them to starve.

Rosa stared at the creature. "Oh, Hagen's crime is laziness. When a rat entered the cottage, he let it get away with Grandmother's dinner."

"She kept a man in her cottage to catch rats?" Now he'd heard everything.

Rosa laughed. "Of course not. Hagen is a cat, one who's supposed to be much more suitable for such things. But when he got all the female cats around pregnant so they were all busy with their litters at the same time, and Hagen would not hunt...she took his manhood." She grinned evilly. "One stroke of the knife, and no more kittens for him. I swear it made him even more fat and lazy than before, but Grandmother liked him sitting on her lap of an evening, so she tolerated him. I have yet to find a use for him. Perhaps he can warm my bed when you are gone." Now she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Gone. Yes," Chase said vaguely. He'd barely been here a week, but already he didn't want to leave. He'd never thought such a tiny cottage could be comfortable, or even a desirable place to live, but with Rosa...he could not...nay, he did not want to imagine living anywhere else. Yet how could he already think of it as home?

He was becoming as mad as Abraham.

Better that she share her bed with a sexless cat than a less than honourable knight who half feared and half hoped he'd give in to his desires and make love to her in the night.

She'd probably turn him into a neutered cat for it, though.

Better that he turn his thoughts to besting the beast, and not her bed.

If Rosa allowed him to. She could easily have left him in her house, and gone after the beast by herself.

Chase cleared his throat. "When you hunt this wolf again, will you allow me to help you? I may not have magic, but I have yet to meet a better bowman than I. If I take care not to climb or fall out of my tree, of course."

"Modest, aren't you, Sir Knight? All right, you may show me your bow skills on the morrow. If you can match me, then I will agree to hunt with you."

From any other woman, the suggestion that he might not be good enough would have rankled. Yet the challenge he saw in Rosa's eyes made him want to rise to meet her.

Here he had no golden armour, no herald to announce him, not even a horse to ride. In his regular leather armour, with injuries that had barely healed, his fate rested on the best archery performance of his life.

Against a woman who could manipulate the very air so that she might fly.

A woman who made his heart soar just by looking at him.

Aros could keep their queens and princesses. He would give everything he had on the morrow, for a chance to hunt beside this lovely woods witch.

He inclined his head in thanks.